Revealed
by DragonWhisperer123
Summary: The prime minister makes MI6 promise to tell the world about Alex if he dies. When Alex is killed, MI6 keeps their promise and soon the entire world knows about the teenage spy. But he's not dead. Now he must adapt to a life where everyone knows his secrt
1. Chapter 1

**I originally wrote a challenge on this, but decided to it myself. [is that even legal?]**

**Summary: The prime minister reads Alex Rider's file and made MI6 promise to tell the world about him if he ever dies on a mission. When Alex is killed by Scorpia, MI6 keeps their promise and soon the entire world knows about the teenage spy. Now he has to deal with school, the media and generally, life.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the plot. If you steal it, I will turn up in the middle of the night on your doorstep with a silenced pistol. Just joking! ...or am I?**

Alan Blunt sighed and put down the phone. He had just been speaking with the prime minister, about probably the most difficult and problematic thing in his life.

Alex Rider.

Miss Jones was currently trying to sooth the sobbing and hysterical Ms. Starbright, after she had come storming into his office threatening to burn the entire 'bank' down if they didn't tell her where Alex was. Blunt was then given the wonderful task of telling her that Alex Rider was dead, killed on his last mission with Scorpia. Then, without thinking, he had told that fortunately the mission had been a success, to which much screaming and book-throwing ensued. How she managed to throw The Complete Works of William Shakespeare across the room, Blunt had no idea, but it had found its target and he now had the mother of all headaches. But he had a bigger problem.

How was he going to tell the world the boy's secret? He couldn't just phone all the media companies in the world and say, 'Hey, I've got a great story for you: we've been using a teenage boy to do our dirty work for the past year!' Hang on a second...

With a bit of rephrasing, that could work! He might have to threaten a few people with strange and sudden disappearances, but that could work! After all, he had footage of some of the boy's stunts (don't ask how he got it) to prove to the media that they had... persuaded the boy to work for them, and he could give them Rider's file (albeit a shortened version).

A small smile tugging at his lips, he picked up the phone.

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A fair haired, brown eyed boy lifted his head slightly, and took in his surroundings. Ash and soot filled the air, but other than that there was nothing.

Suddenly, memories came flooding back. MI6 calling, infiltrating Scorpia, finding a nuclear bomb, shutting it down, grabbed suddenly from behind, tranquilised, waking up in a dungeon, torture, blinding pain, escaping, hacking into Scorpia's system, setting it to self-destruct, running, shockwave, falling... nothing.

Alex rolled over, and immediately regretted it. Pain racked his body, and for a moment he blacked out. When his vision cleared, he laboriously pushed himself up. He got to his feet, and was about to start moving towards the sounds of a city, when he tensed. Footsteps.

Instantly, he dropped to the ground and tilted his head, taking in the information that simple sound gave him. Four people. Male. One had a limp. They were obviously not trying to be careful.

"I don't see why we still have to be here, that agent is long gone," one said. Alex jolted as he recognised the voice.

"He might have survived; Jones said he had the luck of the devil."

"Blunt thinks he's dead, he just spilled his secret to the world." Alex almost keeled over at that.

"Can you believe it? A fifteen year old spy... Bet Fox isn't too chuffed at working for them now."

Alex had now successfully identified the voices. Sure, luck of the devil.

Sighing heavily, he rose once more.

"I'm here!" he called, startled by how hoarse his voice was.

The footsteps stopped, but Alex could see their forms through the smoke.

There were clicking sounds as the men switched off the safety on their guns.

"Identify yourself!" ordered one, now recognised as Wolf.

"Agent Rider," said Alex, striding forward, limping on his injured leg.

"You're alive?" asked Eagle.

Alex sighed again. "No, Eagle, I'm a freakin' zombie. What do you thing?"

"Wait- how do you know me? Unless-"

Eagle stepped towards Alex for a better look.

"No way!"

"What?" demanded Wolf.

"It is you!" exclaimed Eagle.

"Who?" Wolf didn't like being ignored. Taking initiative, he marched towards Alex, before stopping so suddenly it looked like he had just walked into a force field.

A few minutes silence, then, "Cub?"

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"So... you're the agent?"

Alex moaned in exasperation; they had been over this a dozen times or more. The spy and K-unit were walking through a forest that Scorpia's base had been located in, trying to find the safe house. Their search wasn't going well, and Alex was being grilled with questions ranging from 'how did you get out before the bomb went off?' to 'What would you like to eat when we get to the safe house?'

By the time they were finally at the bunker, Alex was ready to decapitate Eagle; that man needed some Rescue Remedies. Or maybe a tranquiliser...

"Cub, let me check out your wounds, I need to see if any thing's infected," said Snake as they walked through the door.

"Sure, but water first."

After Lion (Fox's replacement) had handed Alex a flask of blessedly cool water, he allowed Snake to tend to his wounds, of which there were many.

"Jeez, Cub, what'd you do, get in a fight with a lawn mower?" Snake muttered. Then he froze.

"Cub..." he said softly, "How- when- who shot you?"

At once, all other members of K-unit were at his side.

"That's right above your heart!" said Wolf in a strangled voice.

"Well look who knows his body parts!" said Alex waspishly. He couldn't snapping; he had spent the last two weeks enduring torture, had just woken up after almost being blown up- _again-_ , and now people were telling him things he already knew.

"When were you shot, Cub?" said Snake, more forcefully this time.

"I dunno, about a year ago?"

"Who shot you?"

"The people whose base I just blew up. What is this, twenty questions? Look, guys, as much as I appreciate your concern, I would really like some sleep."

Snake nodded, and the matter seemed to drop. "There's a bed in the back, if you want to rest."

Alex nodded. "Do have a radio or a satellite phone or something? I just want to tell my guardian I'm okay."

"Sorry, Cu- Alex. Our radio was destroyed by a couple of Scorpia agents. Amateurs, we... got rid of them before they could do any damage, but they smashed a few of our supplies, communication stuff mainly. Actually, we're the only people in the world who know you're still alive!"

Alex absorbed that information, and was about to head to the aforementioned bed, but something he had overheard from the conversation the SAS men were having before they had found him surfaced. He froze.

"S-Snake?"

The medic was startled at how shaken the boy sounded. "What's wrong?"

"Something you said before... about Blunt telling the world my secret? You were joking, right?"

Snake bit his lip. "Well, it turns out the Prime Minister told MI6 that if you... died, Blunt had to tell everyone about how many times you saved the world. A gratitude kind of thing, you know?"

"No. I don't know." The teenager's voice was cold, flat. Emotionless.

"Listen Cub," came Wolf's grumpy voice, "What's done is done. Nothing you can do now. It was all over the news, the whole world knows. From what I've heard, you've been through a lot. Hell, I saw you snowboard down a mountain on an ironing board! You can, and will, deal with a little media attention."

Alex was stunned into silence. That was probably the nicest thing Wolf had ever said to him, albeit in a rather harsh manner. Slowly, Alex nodded, and turned back to Snake.

"When do we leave?"

Snake looked relieved at the change in subject. "Tomorrow at 0800. You better get some rest; it's almost eleven o'clock."

Alex walked to the back of the room and into the bed without complaint. He was physically and mentally exhausted.

Maybe this was a good thing. After all, in his first few months as a spy, he had wanted to tell people. Maybe this would stop his enemies from attacking him... as if. But this meant that MI6 couldn't use him anymore! Now that the whole world knew, that meant all the villains knew too, and would know what he looked like and would be suspicious of kids.

'_Yes,_' thought Alex, as he drifted into the comforting embrace of sleep, '_yes. I could finally be free._'

**Well? Should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the positive response! **

**Just to point out, if Snake was more worried about Alex's bullet wound than his fresh wounds, it was because he had already tended to his fresh wounds. I know it wasn't very clear, but, hey, I was writing it at 12:23 last night.**

**Sorry for any other confusion.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own, never will own.**

Alan Blunt adjusted his tie, the only sign that he was nervous. He was about to go up onto a stage and tell millions- no, _billions-_ of people across the globe about everything that was Agent Rider. Fun.

He was not a fan of public speaking, and would much rather be back, safe and sound, in the bullet-proof, sound-proof, bomb-proof box that was his office.

"...and now, here to talk in person about the teenage marvel that is Alex Rider,Alan Blunt, the head of MI6!"

There was applause, and Blunt, recognising his cue, stepped onto the stage and up behind the podium. At once, reporters shoved questions in his face.

"_Mr. Blunt, Mr. Blunt, what brought you to use Alex Rider for this undoubtedly risky job?"_

"He was trained well, and perfectly capable of handling the task."

"_Mr. Blunt, is MI6 in any way responsible for his death?"_

"We accept that we are, in an indirect way, responsible, but he got careless and made a foolish mistake."

"_Mr. Blunt, how was he made to work for you? Certain sources say it was blackmail, is this true?"_

Blunt looked around furiously (but discreetly). Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of black hair and blue eyes glaring ferociously back at him. He scowled. Harris, aka '_certain sources_'.

"No, MI6 is a force of good. We would never blackmail one of our own. We simply persuaded him by telling him all the lives he could save. He said yes. In return, we helpfully supplied his guardian with the Visa she needed to stay here."

"_Mr. Blunt, is it possible that Rider survived?"_

"No. No one could have survived that bomb. The base he was held in had the most advanced security money can buy, or rather, assassins can steal, and one would need several security codes to escape. He wouldn't have been able to get out before the bomb went off. Our agent was lucky, but not that lucky."

The questions continued for another half-hour or so. Some were quite tricky, but Alan Blunt wasn't the head of MI6 for nothing. He could lie his way out of _anything._

Meanwhile, in the background, Ms. Jones was calling in a retrieval unit, to go pick up K-unit. She had sent them in just to make sure that Alex wasn't alive, but as they hadn't tried to communicate, she assumed that they had found nothing. She was quite sad; she had grown attached to the boy.

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The hum of a helicopter cut through the silence, and there was a collective sigh of relief. K-unit just wanted to get away from this place; far too many mosquitoes.

"Cub, wake up! Our ride's here," Wolf called from across the room. Alex groaned and sat up. The pain killer Snake had given him yesterday had worn off, and the medic hadn't been able to treat his wound properly without the right supplies. Thankfully his injuries weren't that bad, but they would certainly scar. Especially the marks from the whip on his back, and the knife wound running from his temple and ending in line with his lips. Honestly, as if a bullet scar wasn't enough.

Lion, the smallest of the unit, had let Alex use some of his spare clothes, as the boy's own clothes were in tatters.

"Thanks," Alex said as Snake tossed him an apple. It was old and bruised, but Alex was starving; the mush that Scorpia had the nerve to call food hadn't been very appetising.

The sound of the helicopter was getting louder and louder, until it reached an almost unbearable level, before cutting out completely.

"Let's go!" barked Wolf. Alex was about to step outside before hesitating. This action didn't go unnoticed.

"It'll be fine," said Eagle, "I can guarantee that everyone will forget about Alex Rider: Teenage Spy in a couple o' months. And even if they don't, you can always barricade yourself in your house with a grenade launcher, before crossing the Mexican border dressed in women's clothing."

Everyone stared at him.

"What?" Eagle said defensively, "I lead an interesting life."

"Er... Right," said Wolf, "Now get into the helicopter before I throw you! I want to get away from this place!"

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Alex took a deep, calming breath. They had managed to get hold of a radio in the helicopter and had informed Blunt and Jones the Alex was okay. Now, in the space of the eight hour flight home, the entire world knew that the teenage spy was alive and kicking.

Alex and K-unit were on their way to the Royal and General Bank. They were driving a vehicle with darkened windows, so no-one knew it was really Alex, but the driver kept staring at him in the rear view mirror, and Alex found it unnerving. Usually people only stared at him that intently when they were about to shoot him.

Needless to say it was a relief to get out of the car.

Alex was pleased that no one had cornered him about his 'job', but knew it wouldn't last.

Sure enough, as he stepped up to the bank doors (glancing over his shoulder to make extra-sure there were no snipers) there was a shout of, "ALEX RIDER?" and everyone on the street turned his way. Alex cursed himself for not putting his hood up.

Luckily, before anyone could descend upon him, he was yanked through the revolving doors of the bank by Wolf.

"I was hoping that I be left in peace for at least a little longer," muttered Alex, before striding up to the reception desk.

"I'm here to see Blunt and Jones." No greetings necessary.

The lady at the desk seemed to jump slightly when she saw who it was, but quickly hid her emotions behind an expressionless mask.

"I'm sorry, sir, there are no people here with those names. Maybe you have the wrong building?"

Alex scowled, then leaned forward threateningly, both hands on the desk. "I _wish _I had the wrong building. I just spent two weeks in _hell_. The two people I hate most have exposed my secret to the world _without my authorization. _I will speak to them _now_."

The receptionist made a strangled squeaking sound in her throat, before composing herself.

"Right this way sir."

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"GET OFF OUR LAWN!" exploded Jack. Alex had just come back from an exhausting debriefing with Jones and Blunt, explaining how he had escaped from the base. When they were finally finished with him, and he had had a nice little rant about them exposing him, he had returned home. All he wanted to do was sit down and watch a nice movie with Jack. But it seemed he couldn't even leave the car, as there were a pack of about thirty reporters waiting for him outside his house.

They were now crowded around the car, and the driver was desperately try to protect his paint job. Finally, Alex snapped.

"LISTEN UP!" he bellowed, "I'M TIRED, I'M SORE, AND I JUST WANT TO GET TO MY HOUSE! I'VE GOT A GRENADE LAUNCHER AND I'M **NOT** AFRAID TO USE IT!"

That cleared them up pretty quickly.

Jack practically crushed Alex's lungs in the death grip that was her hug. "I was SO worried about you! Alex John Rider, if you ever do that again I will KILL you!"

"I missed you too."

"Come on, inside, before those _piranhas _come back." Jack quickly ushered her ward inside.

Alex flopped down on the couch and stuck his feet up on the coffee table. Jack promptly smacked them away.

"What movie are we watching?" asked Alex.

Jack looked worried. "Are you sure you want to watch anything? You look exhausted."

"I'm sure. I just need to get away from it all for a bit."

Jack nodded her understanding, and decided to lighten his mood with a comedy. Eventually, they decided on 'Just Go with It'.

They watched the movie without much interruption, only pausing once to close all the curtains when the reporters tried to climb through the windows.

After the movie, Jack tucked Alex in, something she hadn't done in a long time. As she turned the lights off, something came to mind.

"Alex?"

"Hm?" he grunted

"Are- are you going to school on Monday?"

Alex sat up, wide awake. He bit his lip. "I don't, Jack. I was thinking about it last night... I think I should go. I mean, I should just get it over with, right? At least they won't call me 'Druggie' anymore."

Jack was confused at his logic, but smiled. Trust Alex to look on the bright side.

"Well, it's only Saturday, so you've got another twenty four hours to relax. Maybe ask Tom over tomorrow?"

Alex grinned. "Cool."

"Now try to get some rest. No doubt those idiots camping in our front garden will have whole new ways to antagonize us. It's still quite early; I'll give Tom a call and ask him to come tomorrow."

"Thanks Jack, you're the best."

"Night, Alex."

She got no reply; the spy was already asleep.

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Yawning, Alex stretched, got out of bed, and went to look out the window... And fell over backwards when someone looked back at him.

Scowling, he stomped into the en suite bathroom, grabbed the cup he used to rinse out his mouth and filled it with water. You can guess what happened next.

Satisfied, Alex closed the blinds on his window and went downstairs.

"Mornin', Jack," he said, taking out the cereal, milk and a bowl, before sitting down. "Can Tom come over today?"

"Yup," Jack replied, seemingly distracted. She was reading the newspaper, which was what alerted Alex. Jack _never _read the newspaper.

"What is it?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. Sure enough, his face was plastered across the front page. "TEENAGE SPY!" screamed the title.

Alex groaned.

"Oh, that's not the half of it," fumed Jack. Dragging Alex to the TV room, she gestured to the piles of newspapers, each one with the same message: 'Mini James Bond Among Us! , MI6's Greatest Weapon!', and 'Fifteen Year Old Spy!'.

Alex flopped onto the couch, head in hands. "When's Tom coming?" was all he could manage.

"He should be here any minute."

Exactly ten minutes later, Tom was fighting his way through the sea of reporters and ringing the doorbell.

"Alex!" he exclaimed in delight, punching his best friend's shoulder. "Knew you were alive all along!"

Alex grinned, and allowed Tom to drag him upstairs. As soon as they got to his room, Tom shoved Alex into the desk chair.

"You have to tell me everything! What happened, who captured you, how you escaped, _the works!"_

So Alex told him. They spent a good two hours just talking, before Jack called them down for lunch. After eating, they went outside and played football for a while, until the reporters came to the back. They spent the rest of the day watching movies, playing Wii and darts, and joking around with Jack.

It was about four o'clock, and Tom was about to leave, when Alex was hit by a brainwave. "Tom, I know how to rid of the reporters."

He leant over and whispered the idea in his friend's ear. A grin spread across his face.

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Fifteen minutes later, the teenagers were ready. Grinning at one another, they opened the front door. At once the journalists and cameramen were upon them, but Tom held a hand in the universal symbol for 'stop'. Confused, the reporters did just that.

Alex walked into the middle of the lawn, knelt down, and drove a small wooden peg into the ground. Then he got up and repeated the process. By the time he was done, seventeen little stakes were spread evenly across the lawn.

Task completed, he went back to stand next to Tom, admiring his work.

"That should do it," he announced, dusting of his hands. "Are you sure that's were all of them are?"

Tom grinned maliciously. "Yup, I'm certain. Shall we go turn them on?"

Alex's grin was, if possible, more malicious. "We shall."

"Excuse me, but what _are_ you talking about?" asked a bold reporter.

"Oh, we're just trying to figure out where the minefields are before we activate them," said Tom airily, waving a hand in the air. Then he put on a look of mild concern. "I hope you guys can run fast; these things are pretty powerful."

The lawn cleared so quickly, it was as if a bomb really _had_ gone off.

Laughing so hard that tears were running down their cheeks, the boys said their goodbyes, and Tom left.

As Alex was getting into bed that night, he thought, '_At least some things _don't _change.'_

**Lame ending, I know. But, hey, this is the most I've ever written. So please, REVIEW!**

**Next Chapter: SCHOOL **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, peoples. Now, before I continue with this story, I have to add this minor detail: It IS spelt Scorpia, not SCORPIA. Anthony Horowitz himself uses Scorpia and I **_**think**_** I'm gonna go with what the man who wrote the books says. But that's just my opinion.**

**I know that I've spelt 'secret' wrong in my summary, but I had no more space to write it fully, and I guessed that my readers are smart enough to figure out that it really was secret and not secrt. I hope.**

**Alex is going to seem quite open in this chapter, but I figured that, with his 'occupation' (understatement of the year) revealed, he won't be as secretive, and besides, everyone loves classmates' reactions, right?**

**And I KNOW the first part of this is boring, okay?**

**Disclaimer: If I owned this, I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer, now would I?**

BEEP! BEEP! BEE- BANG!

Alex promptly shot the offending timepiece.

"Alex! What have I said about guns in bedrooms?" Jack called up the stairs.

Okay, maybe shooting his alarm clock was a bit extreme.

Alex quickly checked his windows for reporters, before rolling out of bed. He had a quick shower, got changed into a pair of dark jeans and a loose gray hoody (feeling that the hood would come in handy), and went down stairs for breakfast.

Grabbing a steaming pile of scrambled egg (courtesy of Jack), he sat down at the kitchen table and wolfed down his breakfast.

Tom was going to walk with him to school, so, while waiting for his friend to arrive, Alex switched on the TV. Big mistake.

"..._and Alan Blunt, head of MI6, claims that he has never blackmailed Alex Rider in any way. Speaking of the teenage spy, the group of journalists who were stationed outside Rider's house were threatened with a grenade launcher and bombs if they didn't leave his lawn. In other news-"_

Muttering about no-good news reports, Alex turned off the TV. He was about to give a nice long rant to the innocent television when the doorbell rang, announcing Tom's arrival.

Opening the door, Alex was greeted by his worried friend.

"Alex, are you sure you want to go to school?"

Alex sighed wearily. "Yes, as sure as I was yesterday when I told you at least a dozen times, _I am going to school._"

"Okay, Oka- What are you doing?" Tom asked in alarm as Alex rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and strapped a lethal-looking knife to his arm.

"Some reporters are _really _insistent," Alex replied, checking that his gun had still had bullets after his alarm clock's unfortunate death that morning.

At Tom's disbelieving stare, he shrugged. "MI6 gave me a call after you left- they said that all my enemies would know where I am now, and I need to be ready for anything. It's perfectly likely that they'll launch an attack at school, and in my experience, they'll have guns."

"Right..." Tom quickly got over his shock, and changed the subject. "Then, if you're so sure about going to school, we should leave. Teenage spy or not, you're not immune to detentions."

Laughing, Alex grabbed his backpack, and the two headed out the door.

"All clear," Tom stated, and Alex slid out from under the bush he had been hiding in. They were about two minutes away from Brookland when a group of media vehicles came speeding past, hoping to intercept the teenage spy on his way to school. They had no idea how close they came to doing just that.

As they walked up to the entrance of Brookland Comprehensive School, Alex pulled the hood of his sweater up. He ordered Tom to do the same.

"Why me?"

"'Cause everyone knows we're best mates, and when they see you and an unknown stranger, they'll put two and two together. They may not have twigged that I've work for MI6 for the past year, but they're not that stupid. I hope," explained Alex.

Tom muttered under his breath about know-it-all spies, but pulled his hood up anyway.

Alex managed to get all the way to his locker before someone recognised him.

"Hey, it's Alex!"

Every head in the hallway seemed to turn his way.

"You know," Tom observed loudly, trying to break the tension, "If you get discovered in a school hallway, I cannot comprehend how you manage to stay under cover."

Alex laughed lightly, pointedly ignoring the fact that all eyes were on him. "Well, in my experience, insane Russian millionaires hell-bent on destroying the world don't pay attention to detail."

Tom frowned. "Always Russian?"

"Usually. Although they don't have to be millionaires. They can be assassins, too."

During that small exchange, Alex had gathered his books from his locker. Slamming the door shut, he turned around and raised an eyebrow, as if noticing the entire student body for the first time.

"Don't you have classes to go to or something? I know I do, though I don't see how I can get to them with everyone blocking the way. I mean, Tom still has the grenade launcher, but that's a bit drastic."

Predictably, the hallway cleared pretty quickly.

Making their way to their first class (World Studies), Alex tried to ignore the staring crowd. One girl even asked him for his autograph, to which he stared unrestrainedly. Blushing furiously, she darted off down the corridor.

"It's like they think I', some ruddy movie star!" he muttered at Tom, who sniggered.

"Well, you are, in a roundabout way. MI6 put all these videos of you on the news while you were... missing. You never told me you snowboarded down a mountain on an ironing board!"

"They got a video of that?" asked Alex incredulously. Tom nodded. "They get a video of me doing extreme sports on household utensils when they could have helped get me out of there!"

Tom laughed and pushed open the door to the World Studies classroom.

"It's not funny! There were more than twelve bullets in that snowsuit..." he trailed off as they walked into the classroom. Luckily, they were two of the first people there, and Alex wouldn't have to endure more shameless staring. It would still be a while before class started, so Alex passed the time by showing Tom the cell phone MI6 had given him.

"Don't touch that!" he exclaimed as Tom moved to tap the camera lens, which protruded slightly more than usual than on a regular iPhone.

"Why? Will it explode?" Tom asked in alarm, snatching his hand away.

Alex rolled his eyes. "No. It shoots tranquiliser darts. It's a feature that Smithers decided to keep from before MI6 allowed me to take a gun on missions. Anyway, the phone has a direct link to the 'Bank', right to Jones' or Blunt's office. Unfortunately, "Alex grimaced, "they also have a direct link to _me_, and can call whenever they like now that my 'job' is out in the open. It's also a bug detector, Geiger counter, a communications link with K-unit and Ben-" he snapped his mouth shut as students began to trickle in.

"So basically, they can all harass you whenever they want, even in class time?"

"Yup," replied Alex, popping the 'P'.

"Lucky you," said Tom dryly.

Alex was about to reply, but just then the teacher, Miss Shale, decided to make an entrance. She was one of the newer teachers at Brookland, young with curly blond hair. She seemed quite nervous today, and Alex thought he knew why.

"Good morning class. Please find a seat," she said eyes on Alex. "Mr. Rider, would you please join me outside for a moment?"

Alex stood and followed edgy teacher into the hall, noticing that, once again, all eyes were on him.

"Alex, the other teachers and I need you to know, if any students give you any hassle, you must inform us immediately, okay?"

Alex blinked in surprise. "Uh... Sure..."

"Good," she offered him a tentative smile. "And... welcome back, I suppose."

Alex thanked her, and, at the teacher's indication, walked back into class.

Miss Shale seemed a lot less flustered now that she had gotten that out the way.

"Over the next two weeks, we will be looking at animal cruelty and human rights around the world. To start us off, I'll put a video of a particular horror on the animal kingdom up on the darter projector. Alice, can you get the lights?"

After said girl switched the lights, Miss Shale started the video. Alex cursed his luck as the topic was revealed in the form of the title:

Bullfighting.

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Andrea Shale scanned the classroom, observing the different reactions of her students. Most of the girls were sitting with hands over their mouths, eyes wide with horror. The boys at the back of the classroom weren't even paying attention, having decided that paper football was much more interesting than the video. The rest of the class were still staring at Alex Rider. When she saw the boy in question, she did a double take. His reaction was unlike any other in the class.

His eyes were cold, hard and emotionless. His mouth was set in a grim line. His whole body was stiff, and he looked like wanted to bolt for the door.

Andrea quickly turned the video off. There some weak protests from the students, but she silenced them with a mild glare.

"Now, did you all see the cruelty those animals have been dealt?" she asked the class at large. "Can you imagine what they must feel like?"

To her surprise, Alex raised his hand. She nodded in his direction.

"I feel quite sorry for the matadors. After all, they are the ones with the four hundred and sixty tonne bull bearing down on them. And after being in that situation, I don't have much pity on the bulls. Those things are _mean._"

Andrea forgot all about her position as a teacher, and stared. "You went bullfighting?" she almost squeaked.

Alex shrugged, looking sheepish. "Not by choice. It's a long story, involving an assassin, a mad pop star and an agency that _really_ doesn't believe the things it should." He looked mildly angry at this.

"But, hey, that's in the past. Still don't like bulls, though." He muttered the last part under his breath.

The rest of the lesson passed rather uneventfully, but class was still absorbing that small bit of information. It amazed them that he could be so casual on past experiences that would terrify any of them.

It was during maths that the next interesting thing happened. Everyone was working on the complicated algebra question the teacher had assigned, when Alex sat up very quickly in his desk, head tilted slightly, and glanced sideways out of the window. He fixed his eyes on a sturdy tree, and chuckled humourlessly. Unnecessarily loudly, he said, "Wouldn't it be nice if nosy organizations told people that they were tracking them?" Ignoring the confusion of his classmates, he got up, walked over to the window, and opened it. Then, glaring at the innocent tree, he said, "I know you're there, Ben."

When nothing happened, he said, much more threateningly, "Ben, if you don't come out of that tree right now, I'll take you're a Scorpia assassin and shoot you. So I suggest you show yourself."

There was a moment's silence, and then a fit young man with closely cropped black hair dropped from the tree.

"How do you _do_ that?"complained the man. He had a Liverpudlian accent. "It's just so dang _irritating_!" He scowled, before climbing in through the window.

"Rider?" asked the bewildered maths teacher. "Who- Who is this?"

"Ben Daniels," replied Alex, "He sometimes goes on missions with me*."

"Hi," supplied Ben.

"If you would please excuse us, I need to ask my friend here why he shows up unannounced at my school." With that, Alex dragged his sometimes-partner out into the hall.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed furiously.

"Whoa, whoa!" exclaimed Ben holding his hands up defensively. "I just wanted to check to see if you're okay."

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. MI6 sent me in to pick you up and take you to headquarters. They want a full debriefing."

"No."

"They also told me that if you refuse," Ben looked confused, "to ask you 'How is Miss Starbright?'. Is that code for something?"

Alex scowled. "In a manner of speaking. Let's just go, okay?"

Ben blinked. That code must mean something important.

Alex stuck his head inside the classroom. "Sorry, sir, but I have to go."

The teacher, who had been staring at the door along with rest of the class, looked bewildered. "Why?"

"MI6 has a rotten sense of timing," Alex said.

"Right, right," said the educator, looking flustered. "Off you go."

"Tom, do you mind taking my homework with you? Oh, and don't be to surprised when the Royal and General Bank is blown sky high."

Well? Waddaya think?

***This is after CT, but Alex has done a few more missions since then.**

**PLEASE PLEASE **_**PLEASE**_** send plot ideas in your reviews, 'cause I've got nothing, and if you want another update anytime soon, give me something to work on. I was... distracted while I worked on this, so please point out anything I got wrong.**

**I will now give you a short lesson on hypnosis:**

**PUSH... THE... BLUE... BUTTON...**

**...now cluck like a chicken.**


End file.
